Phantoms of the Past

Phantoms of the Past

Phantoms of the past
Transform to fears of the future;
A fear of giving,
A fear of loving and living.

As I sit in my own corner of the world
Within my mind shadows dance to well played tunes.
They surge with time and pierce my soul to the core.
My anguish rises up and echoes in the emptiness of my heart.
But I still carry on.

Is there any meaning to my existence?
Any purpose to what I say or do
As if sentenced to an eternal purgatory,
I go on living a dead man’s life.

And if by some small chance
My sentence is finally reprieved,
Then my angel of light will come to me
To chase away these specters of the night
And allow me to live and love again.

copyrighted 1989, Roger Gibby

Notes:

This poem was written during a period in my life where I was trying to move on with my life and the memories of past relationships were holding me back.